This, Whatever It Was
by Hazenator
Summary: Steve briefly thought of how he felt he was the only one to feel this type of suspicion, until he noticed how wide Tony's eyes were. The expression was hard to read; what was flowing through his mind? Fear? Anguish? The sudden realization that they had finally gone too far?


Steve had been asleep for seventy years, so when he managed to find an instance where slumber was achievable, it was no surprise when it was over in the blink of an eye.

The night terrors had been something he could handle without so much as a consultation with Dr. Banner (not that he was really a medical doctor as far as Steve knew, but he was the only one he would begin to trust given the circumstances). Despite the time difference, the horrors he had faced fighting overseas were still fresh in his mind, but time and the construction of new memories had begun to heal the damage dealt.

However, the experiences he now relived in his dreams had a relatively similar effect on the man. He found himself awake at four in the morning, body ablaze and sweat cold as ice, quivering and almost hyperventilating. He felt a certain tension and, upon further inspection, found himself incredibly erect. "Damn…" he sighed.

Steve was a war hero, confrontational of all that was deemed malicious and deviant. That being said, he hadn't thought much of it when he first kissed Tony Stark as a means to simply shut him up. He had felt the fusion between them the night they first set eyes upon each other in Germany, but the moment their mouths connected in Tony's rebuilt penthouse was the moment Steve had lost his sense completely. He hadn't expected the libertine to appear at his own apartment a few short nights later, figured he had important big-shot-engineer things to attend to, among other things. Once they had locked eyes with one another through the doorway, however, Steve knew this was no hallucination and acted accordingly.

How was he supposed to know that he would be haunted by the feel of those raven locks running through his fingers, the sound of his own name spilling from that million-dollar mouth, the memory of nails dragging along his back that would have easily left scratch marks had his body lacked the healing capacity it contained thanks courtesy of the serum? The moans given by the so-called merchant of death who had spent many-a-night beneath him echoed throughout the apartment and throughout his mind and had continuously woken him up with a yearning like no other.

It was four in the morning and Steve was sprawled across his couch watching Untamed Heart for the seventieth time. Sleep had pretty much evaded his mind and he had turned his focus to the sappy romance flick on the screen.

"You have peace. I don't," Christian Slater said onscreen, with Steve mumbling in unison. "My sleep, it's always the same dream; the jungle…dreary, twisted limbs…strangling vines…rain, lots of rain. I feel suffocated, despair - despair of just trying to survive, despair and no peace. I'm afraid if they take away my heart, I won't be able to love you the same. You are my peace."

"Oh my God," Marissa Tomei gasped and Steve's tone heightened. "You love with your mind and your soul, not actually with your heart. It's just a saying!"

Steve's right hand raised and pressed against his heart as he mimicked the actor. "Then why does it hurt so much here when you're not with me?"

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Steve paused the movie. He looked through the peephole and saw an extremely disheveled Tony Stark standing in the hallway. Drunk again, he assumed. He unlocked the door and opened it.

The shorter man's expression brightened. "You're awake." He seemed almost surprised. His typically well-groomed hair fell against his head and it looked like there were a few grease stains on his cheek and white Motley Crue thermal; Steve guessed that Tony had been working on one of his cars again. He smelled like a fragrance more expensive than Old Spice and those beautiful puppy dog eyes had a playful gleam to them that almost diverted Steve's attention from the dark circles beneath them. How long had Tony been awake?

Steve chuckled. "When am I not?" he stepped aside to let Tony in. "What brings you in the neighborhood at this hour? Why didn't you call?"

He shrugged. "Do I ever? I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk and ended up in the neighborhood," he said as he stepped toward the blonde. Their chests were roughly inches apart and Tony had to look up to make eye contact, though his eyes continued to flicker to Steve's lips.

"Is that so?" Steve began to feel the fusion once more as those brown eyes met his and that smirk grew. His hands moved to Tony's hips. "You interrupted my movie, you know."

Rough stubble brushed against his cheek and Steve knew Tony had to be on his toes to whisper into his ear "I'm sure I can make it worth your while," but any size jokes he could summon were thrown aside as hot breath ghosted his way into his ear and onto his neck.

Steve noticed that there wasn't a single hint of alcohol on his lover's breath. "Tony…" His grip tightened and he pressed his lips against the smaller man's, pulling him closer. He felt hands move to his soft cotton t-shirt, clutching almost in desperation. He could have sworn he'd heard the breath completely escape the engineer's lungs as he duplicated the action in a firmer motion, letting his tongue invade his mouth. He let the back of one hand barely graze the crotch area of Tony's jeans, only for a brief second as he stepped back carefully until the back of his legs collided with the couch.

He sat back and let Tony climb atop of him, shedding his shirt and allowing Tony to remove his thermal as well. His fingertips ghosted against the metal implement in Tony's chest that he still hadn't learned the full function of, only to caress the rest of his chest while rocking his hips against the other man's ass. "Ah," the man on top of him gasped before reconnecting their lips and reciprocating Steve's ministrations.

Steve began kissing down Tony's neck, nibbling and leaving small marks in his wake. His tongue left a small trail down Tony's collarbone and chest, biting at his sternum and thrusting upward once more. He looked up at Tony, whose breathing had grown increasingly heavy and eyes had dilated from a warm brown to complete black in fervor. The man's hair had gone astray in every direction fathomable and his mouth was ajar, staring down at Steve with a slight grin. "God…" Steve whispered.

Tony quirked his head. "What?"

"You…" his hands moved up Tony's sides and back to his hips as he ground into him in a steady slow rhythm, allowing one hand to rub against the man's clothed cock. "You are so fucking sexy."

Tony looked like he was on the verge of saying something, but it was cut off by his own moan as Steve devoured the sight of him writhing before him. Instead, he clutched to Steve's shoulders tighter. "You can't say things like that…" he gasped and let his eyes give Steve's body a quick three-times-over. "Looking like _that_," he said and let a hand roam down Steve's torso. "With _all those clothes on_."

Steve noted he was only wearing boxers and smirked. "You're one to talk, Mr. Stark. You haven't even removed your shoes. Tsk." He ceased his movements, ignoring Tony's sigh. His hands left Tony's hips and he sat them on either side of himself. "Strip."

Tony was clearly surprised at the sudden demand but shakily stood, taking off his shoes and socks quickly and slowly - almost hesitantly - going for his jeans. That deer-in-the-headlights look remained on his face and his eyes widened as Steve grasped his own erection and rubbed through his boxers. "God damn…" Tony shook his head as he pulled his jeans and briefs down together, letting them pool to his ankles before pushing them aside. He grabbed his own cock, pumping himself as he watched Steve mimic his actions, their eyes meeting each other with an almost magnetic tension. "Lube?"

Steve gestured his head to the side table and Tony withdrew the small bottle from the drawer. "Figures, always prepared-"

"If you make a single boyscout reference, I will destroy you." He lifted his hips to remove his boxers, throwing them aside.

Tony smirked. "Touché, Rogers." He climbed back on top of the soldier and coated his fingers in the substance. Steve quirked his eyebrow - he was always used to being the one to prepare Tony when they fucked. His devious grin grew wider. "Just relax, Captain. Watch me." He reached behind himself and Steve reveled in his change in expression as he inserted his first finger, letting his free hand wrap around his own cock. Steve used one hand to grab Tony's hip to hold him steady and stroked himself with the other.

As he gradually added the second and third finger, Tony became even more of a hot mess. He deliberately missed his spot as he stretched himself, but Steve could tell when he indulged himself by how he would throw his head back and moan out loud. The faster he moved his fingers inside of him, the less Steve was able to handle.

He grabbed the lubricant and coated himself, swatting Tony's hand away from his ass and using both hands to grab onto his hips, guide himself into Tony, and shove his entire length into his lover in one swift motion. Tony cried out upon the intrusion and dug his nails into Steve's shoulders. He clenched and unclenched around Steve's cock, sending sparks throughout Steve's entire body and almost demolishing his composure alone. Their eyes met, dilated and half-lidded, before their lips followed suit. Steve wasn't going to make Tony move, he knew he would when he was ready. His only goal was to pleasure Tony and, while a slight amount of burn and stretch could be moderately pleasurable, Steve knew too much could ruin it all.

Those soft lips against his and hands roaming his upper torso emitted a sensation more intoxicating than alcohol had been pre-serum. Steve was surprised to feel his head spinning, figuring all the blood in his body had been relatively centralized elsewhere. He could hear Tony's whimpers over shallow breaths and almost sympathized for him. The seconds (minutes?) passed for an eternity and Steve began to question just how patient he could possibly stay.

When Tony began moving, though, the agonizing wait was completely worthwhile. Their mouths remained sealed together - breaking for milliseconds to breathe - and Steve dug his nails into Tony's hips as he let himself be slowly consumed by and withdrawn from the tight heat that was Tony Stark. The two had had sex countless times by now, consistently, for months; but this time felt different. Steve had always taken great measures to be tender, but once he knew Tony was comfortable he would proceed to fuck Tony hard enough to leave him sore for days. Countless nights spent in each other's beds left echoes of screams of pleasurable pain and Tony questioning "_How the fuck are you still doing that?!_" as they proceeded to exert all of their secluded self-loathing and unspeakable questions into each other. Would they ever become more than scratches down each other's backs, more than broken headboards and stained sheets?

He had suspicions upon learning Tony's background that he had been experienced in gay sex alongside sex with women, but he had no idea that Tony could ride cock so well. However, as Tony maintained an agonizingly slow pace, Steve began to wonder if it was to change things up, or maybe to convey that he had had enough. The way Tony's hips rocked inward when he fully sheathed his length, how he intermittently clenched around Steve's cock; Steve began to question how God would allow him to see this proud man in such a state of euphoric disarray. "Fuck, Tony, you're gonna make me cum if you keep that up," he moaned.

His eyes opened in time to see Tony flash a full smile before he began picking up the pace just a beat, moaning out loud. Steve gasped, but knew how to even the score. He grasped Tony's cock and began stroking him in time with Tony. "God, you look fucking beautiful like that. You know that, Stark?"

Tony's nails dug deeper into Steve's shoulders. "Nnnngh, likewise, Captain. Never thought I'd - _fuck _- see you like this-FUCKING HELL!" he cried as Steve began thrusting into Tony harder and faster than the smaller man could ever move.

Steve smirked. "You know what I love even more?" He gripped Tony's hip with ease as he pumped him in time with his thrusts. "The look on your face when you cum with me. Like I'm the only one in the world to have ever shown you what a real man feels like."

"God damn, Rogers!" he moaned. "You are. Oh my god, you fucking are." The Lothario's head fell back and Steve could see his pulse quicken on his jugular.

He grinned wider. "All mine, Stark?"

"All yours," he whimpered as Steve thrusted harder.

"You gonna cum with me, Stark? Want me to fill you up like I always do?" Steve neglected Tony's cock and grabbed his hair, pulling his head to make sure Tony was looking right at him. "God, it's like you're addicted to it. Are you? Huh?"

"_Uh-huh_," Tony whimpered, receiving an almost malicious "_heh_" from the blonde inside him.

"Prove it, Stark. Now." That was all it took and Steve felt Tony's ass clench around him before his stomach was coated with the man's cum. The sight of Tony's eyes squeezed shut, his mouth wide open in a feral cry drove Steve over the edge and he let go, riding out his orgasm slowly and panting like he'd run a marathon.

Even once they both came down, they remained perfectly still. Tony's forehead touched Steve's and they held a gaze between each other not even the Hulk could break. Their breath began to slow to a normal pace once more, their pulses regulated, yet neither of them broke eye contact. Tony's hands were placed on either side of Steve's face and his thumbs rested on his cheekbones while Steve's had managed to find their way around his waist.

Steve was almost frightened to break away, but frightened to keep staring. This was _not_ like the countless times they'd spent in each other's beds. No, no, no. This was different. This was like in the movies when the couple shared a first kiss, when they reunited after a long departure, when all of the little moments throughout the story collided into one perfect, surreal instant. Steve briefly thought of how he felt he was the only one to feel this type of suspicion, until he noticed how wide Tony's eyes were. The expression was hard to read; what was flowing through his mind? Fear? Anguish? The sudden realization that they had finally gone too far? God, Steve was on the verge of begging Tony to say something - _anything_ - to relieve him of his desperate inquisitiveness as to where to go from here.

"Say something, Rogers. I'm losing you."

Steve was almost startled by the fractured silence. "Stay."

It was the first and most foolish thing to come to mind and Steve knew he shouldn't have said it. Tony never stayed the night; always had to get back to Stark Tower, always had to get a few hours of sleep in _his own bed_ before attending to more R&D/meetings/wooing of passerby's and comrades alike. To sleep over was to say that _this_, whatever it was, would still be here in the morning. This wasn't just some alcohol-induced craving of Tony's. This wasn't a one-night-stand by any means. This wasn't just him asking to stay _for a night_, but for the next foreseeable future until _this_, whatever it was, either destroyed them or made them flourish.

Tony's expression grew almost stoic and Steve noticed his breathing had stopped. Had there not been a circle of light protruding from the man's chest, he would have checked his vitals. "Okay."

They were silent for a few moments until Tony let a small but genuine smile escape. Steve suddenly felt his heart almost kickstart (had it stopped? had time stopped?) and he placed a gentle kiss on Tony's lips.

Tony pulled off of Steve, gasping at the loss of him, before standing. "What were you watching?" he asked as he clambered down the hall, his legs still visibly shaking, to Steve's room.

Steve raised an eyebrow. What in God's name was he doing? He pulled on his boxers and laid across the couch. "Untamed Heart. Some Christian Slater movie that Darcy told me to watch."

He could hear Tony laugh out loud from his room. "You're so bad at lying, you've probably watched it at least fifty times since they thawed you out. I'm never one to be judgmental, Cap, even I've got my guilty pleasure movies." He stepped out of Steve's room in one of his shirts and boxers, along with the comforter from Steve's bed.

Steve chuckled. "Hey, Tomei's a great actress. Very underrated if you ask me."

"You've got that right." Tony hit the light and laid aside Steve, throwing the blanket over them. "Seems you adjust quick enough to the millennium. Kudos."

Steve sighed. "Don't get too excited, this is about the only colored film I've really grown fond of yet."

He pressed the play button, as the montage after the couple had sex for the first time began. "You know he probably only gave that 'you're my peace' speech to get some ass." Ah, Stark the Sentimental.

"Maybe. A good play nevertheless."

They were silent the remainder of the montage, Steve's arm snaked around Tony's waist to hold him close. He could smell Tony's hair, the fragrance of sex and Chanel. He smiled, content.

As the final scene began, Steve had one more inquiry to address. "…you did not walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn at four in the morning."

"You're right, I drove here, but who's really keeping track? Speaking of which, Stark Tower has plenty of apartment-sized areas welcome to your choosing. Clint and Natasha stay there sometimes, you're more than welcome to. Saves me a twenty-minute drive."

Steve yawned. "Closest to the penthouse, preferably. You know I'd love to sketch out the skyline."

Tony mumbled affirmatively and the two fell asleep before the credits began to roll.


End file.
